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Another TheSWF.Net Exclusive!

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The America West Arena in Phoenix, Arizona, is buzzing with anticipation as the ring area goes dark. The fans, many of them wearing black ICHIBAN~! shirts or Horrorcore attire, await the next participant’s entry...


And then, as the SmarkTron lights up, and the guitars begin to vibrate through the arena, the fans leap to their feet! They begin to roar with approval as the Philosopher Kings’ “I Am The Man” rocks out through the arena, accompanied by a burst of blue pyro. The SmarkTron breaks into the video.


Ego Buster!








Ego Trip!




Logical Disconnect!




As the smoke clears from the entrance, Tom Flesher steps out from behind the curtain, prompting another huge pop from the Phoenix crowd! He strides to the ring, clad in a blue blazer, a white oxford shirt open at the neck, a pair of dark jeans and, of course, a pair of black steel-toed Doc Marten combat boots. Oddly unbalancing is the simple black leather belt at his waist, standing in sharp contrast to the gold he wore so long.


Flesher continues his walk to the ring, an expression on his face that seems to split the difference between cockiness and genuine happiness. He climbs the steps and enters the ring, grabbing a microphone from a ring attendant as he does. As he steps to the center of the ring, the music fades out, but the noise level in the arena seems to increase.




Flesher looks down at the mat, not wanting to show how thrilled he is to be back in an SWF ring after an absence of a month and a half from making any public appearances. Finally, he looks up and raises his left hand. The fans dutifully quiet down, and as Flesher shoves his left hand back into his hip pocket, he begins to speak.


“It’s been a long time coming,” says Flesher in a quiet, almost hushed tone. “From the moment I stepped out of this ring at Clusterf*ck 2004, I knew it… I’d promised myself that if I didn’t win the match… if I couldn’t bring the goods against Wildchild, I’d finally believe what everyone had been telling me for months. ‘Tom,’ they’d say, ‘you’re burning out. You need some time off. You need to rest.’ Well, you know, when Wildchild won that match, I knew they were right. Never mind that I’ve never won a ladder match… I should have been able to put Wildchild down, and I wasn’t, so I decided that maybe it was time to take a few weeks off. I went down to Mark Stevens’ office and waited for him to get back there. Within ten minutes of the end of the match, I was on the road and headed back to Buffalo.”


Flesher looks up, sounding a little less shaky. “So what did I do? I relaxed. I spent some time in the weight room, and some just bellying up to the bars. Packed on a few pounds? Maybe. Honestly, I tried not to watch the SWF at all on TV or pay-per-view, because I was trying to forget about it. The SWF – wrestling in general – has been such a big part of my life for so long that I was just getting used to participating. I knew that if I sat down and watched every week, I’d feel like I was back in the grind, wondering when my turn was going to come. I knew that even if I was working out with the college kids and the Greco nuts, I’d end up thinking about the SWF more and more until I couldn’t stand to stay on hiatus any longer.”


“So, like I said, I spent a lot of time in the weight room and in the bars. I’d love to say that people came up to me and asked me all the time… ‘Hey Tom, when are you going back to the SWF?’ ‘When you gonna win the World Title back, Supes?’ But they didn’t.”


“No matter how hard I tried, though… even though I wasn’t watching the SWF, and even though no one was pestering me about making my return, I couldn’t avoid it. I’d lay awake at night, a test pattern on the TV, and I’d wonder who had my belt. I’d stare at the ceiling, and all I could picture was the way the arena used to look as I’d pull open the curtain and step out.”


“You see, it’s like this… no matter how long I’m away from the ring…” Flesher’s voice crescendos. “No matter how many times the SWF World Heavyweight Championship changes hands when I’m not holding it, and no matter what happens in this ring, that is still MY belt!” This draws a pop from the crowd, too excited to remember that their beloved Charlie Matthews is in possession of the title. “And even if I try to take vacation, go on sabbatical, sleep in for a few weeks, I will NEVER let go of that belt! Nothing else matters.” Again, the crowd applauds as Flesher once again calms down after letting his fighting spirit get the best of him again. “Nothing else matters to me, and so here I am, back again.”


He takes a deep breath.


“One more time.”


The crowd bursts into cheers as “I Am The Man” begins to play again. Flesher smiles once again, half-cocky, half-pleased, as the show fades to commercial.


///This must not have gotten to GSMS last night, but I felt it was important to get it posted as it's relevant to the angle I'll be running.///

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"Oh dear, it's Tom Flesher....we're all going to lose, very, very badly" (God I'm paraphrasing Top Gear qoutes from years ago)


It's great to have you back Tom. (Y) Now let the storylines roll.

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